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Selling Your Soul On eBay

You never know what you're going to find when you go rummaging around on eBay. It's the only place in the world where I've seen strands of George Washington's actual hair for sale. In fact, I've seen so many eBay auctions for strands of George Washington's actual hair that I'm beginning to wonder if the Father of Our Country wasn't plucked bald by relic-seekers. It reminds me of the medieval trade in 'pieces of the True Cross' -- which, if assembled in one place, probably would have furnished sufficient timber to build an ark, with enough left over for a log cabin and several picnic tables.

Now for a personal confession: I'm a certifiable eBay junkie myself. I've spent an absurd chunk of my leisure time sifting through this vast online attic for the glint of treasure amid the spurious relics, white elephants and other odd artifacts. Today, for example, I stumbled across a pair of shoes that belonged to Sir Walter Scott -- THE Sir Walter Scott, author of 'Ivanhoe' and probably the most popular English writer before Dickens. I resolved not to bid on the shoes myself; I've already amassed enough eBay loot to sink a small yacht. But I found it fascinating that this pedigreed literary footwear hadn't attracted a single bidder, while half-demented sports fans had bid a mint-condition 1955 Mickey Mantle card up to the truly absurd price of $10,599.99. If you want an accurate picture of what we value in contemporary society, just look around on eBay.

For example, an Iowa woman had bid $400 for a young man's soul before eBay management yanked the item from its listings. That's right, a human soul was up for auction on eBay. Adam Burtle, a 20-year-old undergraduate at the University of Washington, didn't need to make a Faustian pact with the Devil; he just needed to go online. He didn't demand unlimited worldly knowledge like his legendary predecessor; all he wanted was some pocket money. Bidding started at five cents, and Burtle's former girlfriend bid a devilish sum of $6.66 before she was swamped by a flurry of later bids -- including that mysterious woman from Iowa. Burtle, who describes himself as an atheist and a geek, didn't intend for his auction to be taken seriously. 'Please realize,' Burtle wrote waggishly in his eBay listing, 'I make no warranties as to the condition of the soul. As of now, it is near mint condition, with only minor scratches. Due to difficulties involved with removing my soul, the winning bidder will either have to settle for a night of yummy Thai food and cool indie flicks, or wait until my natural death.'

Even with those restrictive conditions, the fact remains that Burtle's auction attracted serious bidders. There's no telling how high the price of Burtle's soul would have gone if eBay had let the bidding continue. I suspect it wouldn't have topped the 1955 Mickey Mantle card. I know for a fact that I wouldn't have paid good money for the soul of a 20-year-old college student. No way. For his energy, maybe. His youth, certainly. It makes you wonder what other kinds of intangible goods we'd be willing to bid for. I'd probably shell out a sizable chunk of change for Donald Trump's ego if he ever put it on the auction block. I'd pay willingly for Hillary Clinton's chutzpah and her husband's outlandish luck. As a writer I might be willing to part with a hefty sum for Saul Bellow's ageless brilliance or Michael Crichton's Midas touch. Other folks would probably covet Bruce Willis's smirk, Madonna's genius for self-promotion or Sharon Stone's knack for staying on top of the celebrity heap without having had any recent hit films. They'd pay big bucks for Oprah's influence, Kevin Spacey's cool and Celine Dion's ability to win millions of adoring fans on the basis of a forgettable hit song from a blockbuster movie.

But my mind keeps going back to that 20-year-old college student. Forget about his soul... imagine if you really could buy YOUTH on eBay. Just name your price, guard your bid against stealthy last-minute 'snipers' and hang on as the final seconds tick away. Three, two, one, zero. You've won! The young seller contacts you by e-mail; you agree to pay for his youth by credit card. The shipment arrives in the mail two weeks later; you fumble with the excessive tape on the outer packaging (most eBay goods are wrapped like mummies), strip it away, open the box and peek inside. There's a gauzy mass of translucent protoplasm along with a certificate of authenticity. It doesn't look like much, and you begin to wonder if you've been hoodwinked. But within seconds after you remove it from the box, you acquire a violent urge to consume an entire pepperoni pizza. You bound up the stairs two at a time and check your face in the bathroom mirror: Your crow's feet have disappeared; your face seems to glow from within; you have... zits! Meanwhile, some prematurely gray 20-year-old is counting his money and smiling.

© 2001 by Bridget Petrella Media Relations. "Some Cynical Guy" appears here by permission of the publisher.

Profile of a Cynic...

Bayan, who claims to be a "kinder, gentler cynic," currently lives in Allentown, Pennsylvania. His weekly column, "Some Cynical Guy," is published and syndicated by Upbeat Online. 

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